


Consequences

by fhartz91



Series: Taking a Journey Together [69]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom Kurt Hummel, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Sub Blaine Anderson, formal dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 04:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19690819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: At a formal dinner thrown by a good friend, Kurt encounters a man he'd rather forget existed. He handles the situation with his signature cool, but his pet might not be quite so disciplined.





	Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Okay, so, right off the bat, there are a few things I will admit are slightly problematic about the way Kurt and Blaine handle things here, but I know people like Kevin personally, and sometimes, a good old-fashioned revenge fic can make your day xD Plus, before anyone comes at me about hating switches, that isn't what this fic is about. I love switches. I know tons of them. But I also know people in the kink community who's behavior give switches a bad name. Kevin happens to be one of those.

“Why, if it isn’t Kurt Hummel!”

Those words slide unappetizingly through several sour notes of a single rusty octave range, volleying towards their target (in this case, the back of Kurt’s head) and striking with the messy precision of a hot mustard sandwich.

“Well, well, well …” The distastefully tipsy voice becomes louder as its owner slinks closer “… look who the cat dragged in! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Blaine, holding his Master’s drink with eyes trained on the floor, feels Kurt sigh through every fiber of his being from four feet away.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Captain Cliché. God save us all,” Kurt mutters under his breath. He reaches for his drink - a half filled glass of champagne – which Blaine obediently hands over, and knocks it back in one gulp.

Blaine takes the empty glass, prepared to hand it off to the next serving slave that passes by. He keeps his eyes lowered, disallowed to lift them as a submissive, but he doesn’t need to see this man to know who he is, though they’ve never been introduced.

Kevin Dale.

Not Kurt’s only ex, but the _dreaded_ ex.

Blaine knows all about him. He’s the only sub Kurt had who doesn’t gush over him the way his other subs do. Worse, he does anything he can to cut Kurt down behind his back. He identifies as a switch, and is more than likely painting himself as a Dom for this particular occasion, which is why he can approach Kurt like they’re equals. He’s an egotistical ass who is more into fetish than BDSM, but he’s also an attention whore - a difficult thing with Kurt by your side. It’s one of the reasons Blaine can travel in BDSM circles with his Master and not worry too much about being noticed for who he is in real life.

On Broadway, Blaine’s the star, but in this arena, all eyes are on Kurt.

And even if they weren’t, they should be, because Blaine’s Master looks _stunning_.

They’re attending the first formal dinner they’ve been able to go to since Blaine started his new show. The dress code is evening gowns and tuxedos for the Dominants, clean-cut and slightly more casual attire for the subs - anything from the grey dress slacks and eggplant cashmere sweater Blaine has on to completely nude and collared applies. Blaine doesn’t have permission to look in the faces of the Dominants around him, but there’s two things he can tell about Kevin off the bat without looking:

The man is leering at his Master like a cat staring at a plump pigeon perched too high out of his reach.

 _And_ he’s drunk as a skunk.

Which leaves Blaine with a lot of questions, first on his list being where did their host go? It stated quite clearly in the invitation that it was against the rules to get drunk at this function. Inebriation was grounds for immediate removal.

Someone should have carted Kevin out of here a bottle of champagne ago.

“Oh, Kevin,” Kurt says, frustration embedded in his tone. “And just when I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Looks like today’s your lucky day!” Kevin slurs, but his attention wanes quickly when he sets eyes on Blaine. “And look who we have here!”

Blaine can’t see when the man’s eyes find him, but he knows his gaze lingers. He feels it like oily fingers trailing down his skin. He shivers in disgust.

“I heard you had a beautiful new boy, but I didn’t realize he was _that_ beautiful.”

“Yes, he is. I’m incredibly lucky. And before you ask, no. I don’t share.”

“I wouldn’t even think of it,” Kevin replies, but to Blaine’s ears, he sounds disappointed. “I’d have no way to reciprocate.”

“So, you’re still unattached?” Kurt asks. To the outside observer, it would sound like small talk, but Blaine knows his Master took a dig.

“Sadly, yes. I’m _far_ too busy to deal with anyone these days – Master or sub.”

“Pity,” Kurt grumbles, grabbing another glass of champagne when a tray passes by. “And yet you managed to find time in your schedule to show up here. To what do we owe the honor?”

“What’s the good of being part of the kink community if you don’t mingle from time to time? And being single is, uh … a great time to _mingle_.”

Kurt takes a possessive step in front of Blaine, a sign that Kevin must have given Blaine another lecherous once over. But Kurt changing positions draws Blaine’s gaze to his right, to his Master’s hip and Kevin’s hands gesticulating in and out of his line of sight. That’s when he sees it – a gold chain on Kevin’s wrist holding a complicated silver key. Blaine has seen those kinds of keys before. He knows what they’re for.

Kevin having one doesn’t make sense.

Kurt notices it, too, when Kevin dramatically reaches for his own glass of champagne, flashing it before Kurt’s eyes, waiting for Kurt to mention it. “So, you’re a key holder now?”

“Yup.”

“But I thought you said you didn’t have time for anyone.”

“I don’t.”

“So … whose is it?” Kurt sounds downright exhausted when he asks, but Blaine knows why he does. Not because Kurt cares who Kevin’s seeing, but because he wants to make sure that any soul who turns themselves over to Kevin’s quote-unquote care, even casually, knows what they’re getting themselves into.

“My own.”

Kurt’s breathing stops short in a shocked way that makes Blaine want to laugh, but he holds himself together.

“Come again?”

“I couldn’t find anyone worthy of being my key holder so I’m doing it myself.”

“O-kay.” As a masochist himself, Kurt can’t judge. He has a cage of his own. Several, if he’s being honest. There are many things he does to himself that stricter purist Dominants would consider crossing a line into submission. And Kevin’s a switch. Different rules apply. Still, what Kevin does, he does mostly for show, so Kurt would face palm himself if it were socially acceptable. “Whatever floats your boat.”

“Yup. I bought the heaviest, most restrictive cage I could find. Expensive, too,” he exposits even though no one asks, grabbing himself in the crassest way possible to emphasize his point. “It’s special made to my specifications, one of a kind, with only the one key.” He holds up his wrist, dangling the key in front of Kurt’s face like some sort of enticement. “I’d have to go see a locksmith if I lost it. Maybe even the ER.”

“You don’t say.” Kurt grabs another flute of champagne when another tray goes by out of habit now, sounding less interested in this conversation than he would talking about the average velocity of snot traveling through space. “You’d better pray it doesn’t go astray then.”

“The only way someone’s going to get ahold of this baby is to cut off my hand.” Kevin growls, sounding excited that someone might actually fight him over that key. Maybe he’s hoping Kurt will just so he has an excuse to mess with him again.

The assumption that he could sets Blaine’s back teeth on edge.

Kurt sighs. Blaine knows that sigh. It’s Kurt’s _beyond done_ sigh. “Well, as exciting as this has been, I’m afraid it’s about time that my pet and I run along.”

“Ooo,” Kevin coos, stepping purposefully in Blaine’s way as they begin to walk off causing Blaine to run into him. “Feel like moving this party somewhere else, then? Somewhere more intimate?”

“Not in the slightest.” Kurt takes Blaine’s elbow and maneuvers him around the swaying bastard grinning in front of them. “You stay here, Kevin. Here ...” He thrusts his untouched glass of champagne in the man’s hand “… have a drink. I’m going to find Adam and confer with him about the caliber of his guest list. Have a lovely rest of your evening.”

“You as well, mon ami,” Kevin says with a clumsy wave, watching Blaine’s ass in particular as the two men leave, hand lewdly reaching for his caged cock again.

***

“Jesus _Christ_! That was the longest, dullest dinner Adam has ever thrown!” Kurt laments, shoving Blaine against the first wall he can find the second they walk through their hotel suite door. “I don’t know _why_ he chose to change party planners, but they had no clue what they were doing!”

Blaine doesn’t get a word in before Kurt claims his mouth and kisses him hard, smacking the back of his head against the drywall. Not that he would have said anything … or had permission to speak. None of that matters anyway because he enjoys this – enjoys Kurt’s control, a control he doesn’t even have to surrender to. One only needs to surrender control when they have it, and as Blaine’s control is limited, there’s nothing to surrender. He just gets to _be_ and that’s all he really wants.

“You know, I thought our evening was shot when that asshole _Kevin_ showed up, but with you there …” Kurt breathes his pet in deep, letting the clean smell of Blaine’s skin fill his nose and mouth “… you make it all bearable.” He grins against his pet’s lips, crowding him further against the wall even when there’s no more room, pressing the whole of his body against him. “You were such a good boy tonight, pet.” Kurt giggles, reaching for the buckle to Blaine’s slacks. “Such an obedient boy. I think that deserves a reward. Don’t you?”

“I …” Blaine squeaks. _God_! Now is _so_ not a good time to speak up, but he has to! If his Master finds out he was keeping something from him after receiving a reward, Blaine won’t see another one until the year’s out. And it’s only February. “Sir, I have a confession to make. An important one.”

“Oh?” Kurt steps back, annoyed at the interruption, but mostly at the idea that his pet may have disobeyed him behind his back. “And what’s that, pet? Tell me now.”

But Blaine doesn’t say another word. He reaches into his pocket and slowly pulls out a gold chain. He holds it up in front of Kurt’s face, gulping down air with a dry throat, aware that this might have serious consequences. Kurt’s eyes spring open wide.

The gold chain twists in front of his eyes from the weight of a single silver key.

A complicated key.

A familiar looking key.

“What the …?” Kurt stares at Blaine, surprise mixed with confusion swirling within his gaze. “When did you …?”

“I … I didn’t, Sir. Not intentionally. When Kevin bumped into me on the way out, the clasp must have caught on to my sweater and broke. It was stuck to my sleeve. I didn’t notice until we were in the parking lot. I suppose I could have told you in enough time to return it, but I ...” Blaine’s bottom jaw snaps shut, and with it, Kurt’s already wide eyes open further.

“But what, pet? Finish.”

“But I …” Blaine inhales in and exhales out, mentally preparing to end this night taking whatever punishment his Master sees fit to give him. “I don’t like Kevin. I don’t like the way he talked to you. I don’t like the way he talks _about_ you. I don’t like the fact that he disrespects you. You’ve told me how he acted when the two of you were together – how he insulted you, manipulated you. Obviously, he hasn’t changed. I know that those concerns shouldn’t be mine, and that I should just obey. You give me rules, and I should follow them without question. But I wanted to get back at him. And this seemed like a fitting way.”

Kurt grabs the chain from Blaine’s hand and examines the clasp, not because he doubts his pet’s version of events, but so he can grasp the extent of what happened. He holds the chain closer to his eyes and sure enough, the clasp has snapped, rendering it permanently open. Kurt muses over this turn of events, contemplating what he should do, how he should handle Blaine. Considering the condition of the chain, it’s not really Blaine’s fault.

And yes, Blaine shouldn’t carry those concerns. They’re for Kurt to bear. But Kurt can’t punish Blaine for his loyalty. That would be like setting him up to fail. Kurt confided in him to begin with. Did he expect his loyal pet, this man who loves him unconditionally, to be able to push those things aside without any opinion on them whatsoever?

Kurt isn’t able to. Blaine has confided in Kurt, too, about demon exes from his past. Kurt hasn’t set any of that information aside. On the contrary, he’s created a hit list of sorts. On occasion, he takes it out, Googles a name, looks at a picture, memorizes information, dreams about the kinds of punishments he’d dish out if the two ever crossed paths …

Blaine shouldn’t disrespect a Dom by keeping his key from him. Losing keys are anxiety fuel for Kurt. But no one they know really considers Kevin a Dom worthy of respect anyhow.

Very few people consider him a Dom at all.

According to Adam, the man wasn’t invited to his soiree tonight. He finagled himself inside by taking advantage of his overwhelmed party planners – another point against him.

But regardless of feelings and people’s opinions, in the end, Kevin should have opted for a sturdier chain to carry his super important key.

The irony of Kurt finding himself unexpectedly becoming Kevin’s key holder makes a grin burn from cheek to cheek.

“You know, I should probably be upset at you for this,” Kurt says, unable to keep the snicker out of his voice. “And you’re right. The responsible thing would have been to tell me about this earlier, when I could have done something about it.”

“I know, Sir,” Blaine says, pressing his chin to his chest to hide the smile that won’t go away, relieved when he hears his Master’s playful tone. However Kurt decides to punish him over this, Blaine will deserve it.

But for the moment, he feels fucking great.

“Stay here, pet, while I take care of … _this_ ,” Kurt says, sneering at the key, thoughts of having to see the distasteful man again sullying his mood.

“Yes, Sir.” Blaine assumes Kurt will put the key safely away and text Kevin about it, letting him know when and where he can pick it up. After all, that’s the _responsible_ thing to do. Kurt crosses the room to the bathroom and disappears behind the door. The next sound Blaine hears is the toilet flushing. Kurt comes out, brushing his hands together, the chain and key nowhere to be seen.

“Master?” Blaine says, raising an eyebrow.

“You know nothing, and neither do I, pet,” Kurt declares, returning to the matter of Blaine’s belt buckle. “Are we clear?”

“Crystal, Sir,” Blaine says, biting his lower lip the second Kurt slips his hands downs his pants.

“So,” Kurt hums, vibrating with satisfaction, “where were we …?”


End file.
